


Because Sirius Broke Faith First

by orange_8_hands



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Betrayal, Character Study, Gen, M/M, Marauders' Era, Pre-Canon, Sad, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-28 15:37:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/309394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orange_8_hands/pseuds/orange_8_hands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why Remus believed</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because Sirius Broke Faith First

**Author's Note:**

> (Trigger) Warning: implied child rape
> 
> Originally posted on [my LJ](http://orange-8-hands.livejournal.com/1349.html), July 2011.

It’s so much easier to believe the second betrayal when the first shadows everything. 

His life was made up of Before and After. Before rough hands and sharp teeth and blood and fur and a fury that went too deep to ever be just anger. After meant moments of flinches and lies and horrible dreams that had already happened and skin already touched and right before consciousness left a thought that yes, it could have been worse, but maybe death was preferable.

That was the first time, when his world split into Before and After.

He made friends. Smart, clever, not necessarily nice friends, who figured out the truth ( _shame coating his tongue when he admits yes because no is no longer an option_ _in front of sharp eyes_ ) and didn’t hate him for it. More importantly, didn’t treat him any different, though a new world of nicknames and snide comments opened up, Sirius and James falling into the hole and dragging Peter along until they could change shapes and turn the worst moment of his life (relived like clockwork every month and appearing in dreams even more) into another adventure, another game. He made what peace he could for ignoring his conscious to have his friends; he knew it was an uneven trade, but wasn’t sure which side was getting the raw deal.

And then it became the second time, his world split into two, into Before and After.

It can be hard being four friends, even as close as they were, even as strongly tied as their bonds were. Sirius and James were brothers; a first meeting on a Hogwarts train at ten years old decided that in this case, there were some things stronger than blood. Sirius was rebellious enough and James was cruel enough that their good and evil balanced at exactly the same tilt. They were a loud marching band that competed against each other as much as they competed with each other, sounds and color and life echoing out from them like bashing steel drums in strong arms. As different as they were on the surface their souls went to the same beat, one that they changed only when they changed it together.

It was hard being great friends with best friends.

He and Peter were always additions to their twosome, but didn’t make up their own twosome as foursomes usually did. Peter was sly and big and adoring; he wanted to _be_ the twosome, not part of it.

Whereas Remus wanted it to be a threesome. 

For all his quietness, and studiousness, Remus was not shy. He thought he was, could have been, maybe should have been considering what lived under his skin, but he wasn’t. He was as likely to call Sirius and James off on their idiocy as to follow it. He gave as good as he got, mocking and pranks and rough and tumble shoving. He switched places with Sirius and James as leader of their group like a tangled dance they all perfected without having to speak the steps out loud. He was not as clever as they were but he was as smart, and just as funny, and while Sirius was the one to come up with the nicknames he was the one who came up with the map. 

The difference between the brass trumpets of Sirius and James and the fast paced but quieter piano of Remus was kindness. He understood what it meant to have it naturally, to give it freely, and to not take it without merit. He knew kindness could change the world because every month he lived a night where kindness had no part until three friends changed shape and joined him, turning nightmares into parties like large gulps of brandy and chocolate. It was bright and not very smart and too wild and reckless to end well, but it was kindness too, a kindness he never expected, wouldn’t have known how to. 

They had arguments before, loud threats of hexes and silence and once or twice even fists, arguing they’d never speak to each other again, rash curses and flushed faces. But underneath it all they were still mates, still friends, still saved their best ideas and funniest jokes until the apologizes had been made. 

The Trick, the Joke, the Prank, the Incident, the Event…Remus never knew what to call it, but he knew what it was to live in the After of it. 

  
James and Peter created their own little dance in the After, switching partners with cautious grace. There was never a set schedule – it wasn’t like James got Sirius for breakfast and Remus for lunch, or Peter got Sirius for Potions and Remus for History of Magic – but they somehow made it into a way of living. There were two agreements all made for this to work: James and Peter could not ask Remus to forgive Sirius, and Remus would not ask them to give up Sirius.   


Remus and Sirius both made other friends during this time, for the days James and Peter were together with the third. Remus was fun and likeable; Sirius was dangerous and beautiful. Remus spent time with other Perfects – Lily especially, knew how to be funny and kind at the same time, a talent he had learned by now was rare – and some kids from his classes. Sirius usually dated, never happy but hiding it with kisses and skin and warm caresses but never any promises.

Sirius made promises like others made the Unbreakable Vow: absolute care, absolute certainty, eyes holding your own and ready to give it everything to keep it true. He had made seven in his lifetime at that point, three of them to Remus. 

I promise I do not care you are a werewolf (and he didn’t).

I promise I know what I’m doing (and when he turned into a black dog it was true, he knew how to brew).

I promise not to let you hurt anyone as a werewolf. 

(Which he broke. Broke broke broke over something that was ultimately petty in the wake of the devastation it caused. Hatred of Snape, as strong and as deep as it seemed, did not ever fill the hole of Remus and his friendship.)

So that was the second betrayal.

No matter that over time Remus forgave. No matter over time that they took their friendship and one night made it into something more. No matter how many smiles or whispered confessions or smooth slides of skin or mocking laughs they exchanged, there was always a rip, a tear, a discord in their relationship. 

Betrayal was a crack no amount of sanding or painting over would ever truly heal. 

The third betrayal, the night of death, the night of celebration, the night the last of James and Lily was given to Muggles for safekeeping and the night Remus’ heart never beat quite the same way again, was almost a relief. 

It felt like the shoe he had been waiting to hear drop finally did so. 

He grieved, he grieved for dead friends and a lost boy and a war that ended with too many causalities and a lover who had been filled with lies and a life that would forever be shattered. He grieved with tears and shattered objects thrown against walls and scratches deep into his own skin and cries too heartbroken to be muffled. 

But he grieved without surprise, in this world of After. 


End file.
